


Cold Deset

by Achrya



Series: SWtOR Universe [1]
Category: Star Wars Legends: The Old Republic
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, F/M, Language, M/M, Slash, Slavery
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-27
Updated: 2015-06-25
Packaged: 2018-04-01 12:09:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,724
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4019209
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Achrya/pseuds/Achrya
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Talaa was the strong one, powerful and burning hot, a creature of fury and power. Alaian was the smart one, wicked, dark, and willing to lay waste to the world. Together they will conquer everything in their path and change the face of the Empire, or die trying.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. I Leave You With Your Misery

**Author's Note:**

> Unbetaed, so all mistakes are my own. If you see them let me know and I'll fix them asap  
> Warnings: Language, violence, blood, and all those other things that make dark side Sith dark side. Also a healthy smidge of homosexuality, so if that is the sort of things that offends you I'd back out now, I shall think no less of you.

Talaa Bl’Agi brushed a strand of hair behind her ear then looked out of the window of the shuttle, watching the monotonous terrain race by beneath them. The shuttle was packed to capacity and smelled of unwashed skin and sweat and it was equal parts unpleasant and thrilling. Everyone here had fought to be on this shuttle, had scrapped and survived against sometimes overwhelming odds to earn the honor of being a part of the latest batch of acolytes sent to the Sith Academy.

Alaian snorted lowly and turned to look at her, eyes drooping as if he was fighting sleep. She could feel his energy radiating from him though she wasn't able to see it as she knew some force sensitive people could. Alaian, for example, claimed he could see power signatures and auras in some. He said her aura was a dark red mixed with black and that his was a deep purple and that when they were close they mixed around the edges, melding and vanishing into each other. She imagined she could feel that melding, could feel his power reaching out and touching her own, lending and taking strength.

She touched his hand, fingertips brushing over his palm, and for a moment she could sense the potential of everyone on the shuttle. They were a full group, destined to do what was needed until only one of them stood at the end. The acolyte who survived would, of course, be her. There was simply no other acceptable outcome; she would lay waste to those who sought to take what must eventually be her’s and step over their broken bodies.

She could sense the power in all of them, thrumming softly in their bodies, save the hooded figure sitting alone in the back of the shuttle. Him she wasn’t sure about and it made her very nervous. To be able to cloak himself from the two of them together...it was something no other trainee had been able to do thus far.

But this was a whole new situation. They were now in a much larger pond, as the human saying went.

Alaian murmured softly, not bothering to form actual words, but to her it spoke volumes. He would keep his eye on that one if he was able and do his best to take him out of the trials early. And if he seemed to be a problem it was possible he'd have an unfortunate accident, preferably while Alaian was elsewhere.

She ended the contact, sensing they were about to land. He inclined his head at her then stood to move away, moving further back as if to look out of one of the windows. The moment he was gone one of the guards who'd sought her out to tell her she'd been called to the academy moved next to her. She was wearing an apologetic look and Talaa arched an eyebrow, wondering what was on the woman's mind.

"I'm sorry you had to sit next to that filth." The woman's voice was soft, as if sharing a secret with a friend. "I can't imagine why we're letting former slaves try to become Sith. The whole lot of them, slaves and trash. Disgusting."

"How appalling." Talaa agreed, sniffing. She would find this woman and rip her heart out at a later date. She and Alaian had been hearing such things their entire life, having been born to a Pureblood family that had fallen into disgrace so long ago no one knew what the disgrace had been. They were slaves, born to slaves, and their fellow Pureblood's looked at this with disgust. Barely above alien slaves, really.

Talaa suspected that was why she had so many siblings. Their parents, ever hopeful that somehow, someway, they would return honor to the family, had hoped to have at least one child who could pull them out of their shame. They had an older sister who'd also come to the academy, but hadn't been heard from in over five years. Another sister had managed to become the whore of minor noble on some distant planet, but it hadn't done much for their standing. The other six were younger and only time would tell what became of them.

Her brother was still looked upon as a slave, had actually been called to undergo the final trials along with others of low birth, but Talaa seemed to have left her status behind when she stepped onto the shuttle. The guards seemed to know nothing of who she was and the other acolytes had gazed at her as if she was above them.

A very interesting development, to be sure.

The woman nodded, apparently appreciating Talaa's agreement. "Well. Good luck acolyte."

Talaa ran her fingers through her hair again then stepped off the shuttle, saying over her shoulder. "Luck is for those who lack true power."

Alaian was off to the side, standing among a group of rough looking acolytes in front of a small angry looking human man.

"The rest of you gutter trash know your trials. Go, while I bring our latecomer up to speed." He was looking at her brother, who was staring back, clearly unimpressed. A slight redheaded girl said something to Alaian who smiled at her ferally. She blushed, holding up her hands as if in submission then hurried after the rest of the group.

"There is a hermit named Spindrall, living in the tomb of Ajunta Pall. He's a madman, but Lord Zash sees him as some kind of prophet. Once you find him he will test you." Alaian nodded, feral smile fading away. The Overseer sneered. "Go then slave, you know your trial."

"Acolyte Talaa." A dark skinned human was standing off to the side. "I am Overseer Tremel and I called upon you to undergo your trials early."

She came to stand in front of him and clasped her hands behind her back. "I see."

He took a moment to explain the trials to her, and her first trial in particular, ending with "These trials weed out the weak. Survive and become Sith, or die and be forgotten."

She nodded tightly, unconsciously mimicking her brother. Tremel stared down at her, eyes seeming to stare through her. "You have a question."

Talaa hesitated, not sure if sharing her inner thoughts was wise. But something about this man was soothing and almost fatherly. She knew that Alaian would have asked if it was him in her place. Her brother never passed up an opportunity to learn something, lest it be an advantage later.

"Why did you call me early?"

"Ah." He smiled thinly. "Because this is when you will be at the height of your power. I have been watching you and your twin closely, since you first came to my attention. When he was brought here I knew that you would fare better together and potentially fail apart and I have...a vested interest in you succeeding.“

She nodded again. He stared at her, expression turning grim. "Work together for now, but also learn to work apart. Only then will you both be able to grasp true power. A sith must be able to stand alone as well as utilize others."

0000000000

Alaian was waiting for his sister just inside the tomb. He was leaning against a cargo box in close proximity to a soldier, who kept sneaking nervous looks in his direction. Alaian was aware, though he gave no outwardly appearance of it. He glanced over his shoulder when she descended the stairs and the soldier turned as well, starting visibly. Alaian smiled thinly, willing to concede that his sister had grown into a striking woman over time.

They were fairly similar in appearance, sharing deep red skin, jet black hair, and faces that were ridged along the cheek and brow bones. They were taller than most, though he stood just a touch above her, and were slight in build. She was more muscular than him, a body built by constant training and honed for physical combat. Her hair was currently pulled into a tight tail, showing the jewelry that adorned her forehead and the golden cuffs on her ears. Her nose was pierced as well and held a gold ring; all of the items their mother claimed were passed down through her family and would bring good luck.

Alaian had similar ear cuffs, but in silver and without a supposed family history attached to them, and was pierced across the bridge of his nose. His hair was also long, longer than Talaa’s even, and worn pulled back from his face. He lacked the hard compact muscle of his sister, but instead had a build best described as wiry.

He pushed off the boxes, eager to hear how her encounter with her overseer had gone. He'd gotten impressions in spite of the distance; a mix of doubt, skepticism, and caution. Their connection, though strong, was far from mind reading, though it did keep the exchange of words between them brief.

“Tremel was interesting.” Talaa said, voice a hoarse rumble. Being strong in the force was a ‘lucky’ thing for Talaa; as attractive as she was she was a bit too rough around the edges, voice too deep and harsh, hands a little too big to have been picked up for a noble’s harem and so she would have ended up a cantina girl, at best.

Not that Alaian’s future would have been much brighter.

“Said he called me early because he knew my best chance was with you here.” She tilted her head towards him, dark eyes reflecting curiosity. “And he’s arranged for our relation to be kept hidden. Seems impossible.”

Alaian shrugged and started walking deeper into the tomb. “Slave birth records are spotty and I have...put a not inconsiderable amount of effort into moving you away from our roots. Away from people who knew us on our home world or on Dathomir pretending to be of not low birth wouldn’t be so hard.”

She tilted her head, expression curious. “Why would I want to be someone else.”

“Why would you want to command respect and not be called the daughter of a whore?” He snorted softly. “I can’t imagine.”

Talla went silent as she fell into step with him and together they slunk into the shadows. The tomb, much like the desert outside of it, was crawling with K'lor'slugs, nasty creatures with a taste for flesh and venom in their bite. They clung to the darkness and could catch a person unaware or would swarm in large packs, killing and then eating their victims until not even bones were left. He'd heard stories of them making their ways onto ships and laying eggs in the dark recesses. The eggs would hatch and the young would crawl through the ship, seeking food wherever they could find it and leaving nothing of the crew behind.

Along with that were the looters, scrabbling about like insects as they tried to find things that they were hoping had been left behind during the occupation of the planet. There was little, if anything, to be found of course. The Republic had been very thorough in their destruction of Sith history and what they hadn't managed to crush to dust had already been found and archived when Korriban had been retaken.

Nonetheless the looters were there and they had to be on the lookout for them. Alaian's eyes adjusted for the gloom quickly, but he still opted to hug the wall. It certainly wouldn't do to get eaten or shot before he got to Spindrall after all. Some people may have called his cautiousness weakness or fear, but he preferred to think those people were the ones who died fastest. There was more to being Sith than brute strength and power and those who couldn't see that were doomed to become little more than sand.

Talaa heard something and he felt a spike of alarm in her. He stopped and squinted, trying to make out something other than pillars and crumbling walls. There was a pinprick of light in the distance, but it did little to illuminate his surroundings.

Talaa moved away from him, quickly being swallowed up by the blackness. He inhaled then exhaled slowly, pulling on the power inside of him. Purple sparks began to jump between his fingertips. He'd been honing his skills as best he could with the training they’d gotten on Dathomir, though he knew that was nothing compared to what he’d be learning here or in the future.

He saw them, a series of small red pinpricks peering out at the gloom. He thrust out his hand, forcing the energy out and aiming it towards the glowing red. An ear piercing shriek filled the tomb, followed by a dull thud. He was on to the next target before the thought that his first was dead sunk in, throwing out streams of purple energy. He could see the animal rear back and convulse, the lightening flowing from his fingertips illuminating the scene. He could see there were more of them, round mouths full of teeth that dripped with venom.

There was a roar, low and throaty and then his sister came arcing through the air, training saber drawn. She gripped it in two hands and swung, felling on slug and catching another on the upswing, gouging a hole and sending a spray of fluid over her face. She smiled, teeth gleaming, then went forward on one foot, swinging the saber in a punishing arch down onto one of the smaller K'lor'slugs, smashing it into pulp. Alaian turned from her and back to the matter at hand, rolling away as one of the beasts threw itself at him. He could smell the rancid murky smell of it's breath and had to hold down the urge to gag as he jabbed his saber forward. He whirled, launching another pulse of energy from his fingers.

Another slug fell and Alaian was dimly aware of a rank burning smell hovering in the air. Talaa seemed unconcerned, gleefully hacking her way through the beasts. He hung back, watching her with amusement. When she'd finished the group off she surged towards him, eyes wide and glittering in the darkness.

"Looters up ahead." And with that she was gone, running down the corridor. He could feel her battle lust, crashing into him hard enough to make his vision swim. They'd been side by side their whole life, fighting and even killing in each others company, and so he was used to her light touch in his mind. But there were rare moments, moments like this, where she could become an overwhelming presence, a force of nature demanding that he fell in line and follow her lead.

He could fight it, if he wanted, but why would he want to do that? Instead he sank into her feelings, letting them touch his own and feed them like fuel to a fire.

He ran after her, trusting himself to not trip over his own feet. The spot of light jumped in front of him, growing larger with each moment. He came skidding a halt next to Talaa, who was practically vibrating with excitement. They had stopped at the top of a flight of stairs which emptied down into a room that was milling with activity. Looters, all human by the looks of things, were moving under the bright lights of portable lamps.

Talaa tilted her head slightly and her hand brushed over his own. He stayed silent but she smiled at him again, a wicked slash full of teeth, then launched herself forward, body a blur. He jogged after, taking a more normal route. He spotted a looter, a small dark-haired woman, with a vibrosword in hand. He grabbed at the force inside of him again then threw it out, smiling as the woman screamed.

He admired his sister and the way she used the force, which was in such stark contrast to his approach. He grabbed onto it, as best he could anyway, and tried to give it physical form and then wielded that form like a weapon. Talaa however kept the power inside, using it to change her body; it made her move faster, hit harder, and feel less pain. She swung and swayed, felling the looters with a large smile on her face. She glowed, a red light encircling her body, tendrils around the edge moving to and fro as if dancing.

A larger looter pushed his way into the fray and pulled back before slapping his sister, the sound of flesh on flesh echoing in his ears. She drooped, visibly dazed. Alaian was next to her before he realized it, hands making contact with the man's chest. He was angry now, rage a cold hard ball in his stomach, and he drew on it. His hands sparked brightly and the man's face twisted in pain. He screamed, the noise muffled by the pounding of blood in Alaian's ears. He pushed harder, wanting to hear the man's pain, and pained shrieks swelled, filling the room.

He let his hands drop to his side, seething. Talaa straightened up, shaking her head as if to force it to clear. Her eyes darted around as she wiped at her mouth, stained with her own blood. Alaian looked too, surprised to see that all of the looters were on the ground, more than a few with scorch marks on their bodies. There had been about a dozen in all and the ones Talaa had decimated laid in an almost neat pile at their feet, bodies ruined by her blunt weapon.

She bounced on the balls of her feet. "Hermit now?"

"I don't think we can kill the hermit." He stepped over the pile, pausing to snag a portable light from the top of a crate, then turned down a hallway.

"Oh." Talaa fell back into step behind him, once again wiping at her mouth, voice shakey. "That guy got me good."

He grunted, feeling strangely empty as his rage drained away. "You'll have to be more careful. You can't fight the Republic or Jedi if you can't manage to keep a looter from knocking you senseless." Hell, she wouldn't survive against her fellow acolytes like that.

Then again neither would he if he lost awareness of his surroundings like he just had every time he was angry. He'd done some serious damage, he supposed, but he'd left himself open for attack to do so. They were both guilty of dropping their guard and in less 'playful' circumstances that could get them killed.

Talaa scoffed. "I don't need to be careful Ian. You're careful enough for both of us."

He shook his head. “I guess someone has to be.”


	2. Pushes out this Breath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trials

 

Alaian descended into Spindrall's 'home', a calculating expression on his face. Other acolytes, all clad in robes and on their knees, filled the room and he could feel their eyes on him as he walked past them. Talaa stayed at the bottom of the stairs, twirling her training saber anxiously. They'd made short work of the rest of the tomb, the woman gleefully cutting down slugs that crossed their path while he trudged after her. He'd allowed it, too busy trying to fight off the bone-deep weariness that was slowly creeping it's way through him to put up any protest.

Spindrall rose from his crouch and turned to face him, robes flowing around his body as he did. "Slave, welcome to my humble home. You are here for your trial, yes. Learn the ways of the Sith from a muttering old man in a tomb."

Alaian was taken aback, not sure what to make of the old man. He had power, yes, but Alaian couldn't see his aura to even begin to consider it. The old man smiled, showing off rotting teeth.

"You have the power of true sight, but it is raw and weak, untrained. You won't be reading anyone with any actual ability, so I suggest you save it for your fellow acolytes."

He scowled down at the hermit, a flush of embarrassment racing up his body. "My trial then."

Spindrall laughed, harsh voice bouncing off the walls, before gesturing at the kneeling figures. "These are failed acolytes. They would kill you for your spot without thought and so you must be willing to do the same. The girl isn't to help you."

With that Spindrall turned from him and returned to his kneeling position. Alaian drew his training saber, eying the six figures warily. Their power was also hidden to him and, he had to confess, it put him on edge. He was used to the world being a kaleidoscope of color, but it was becoming clear that he wouldn't have that to fall back on anymore.

At least he'd been able to read the rest of his group. Nothing particularly impressive to be found there, though the set of brothers had given him pause; together they might be dangerous. They would need to be watched.

Later. For now he needed to focus on the task at hand.

The first two acolytes rose, weapons drawn. He threw his energy at the first, sending the man to his knees with convulsions. The second he focused on, pouring lightning into his body. The acolyte didn't scream but instead tried to force through the pain to get close enough to strike him. Alaian was able to duck a swipe from the first, now recovered acolyte and catch him in the gut with his own weapon. The third was rushing him and held up his weapon to block the incoming swing, arms screaming with pain as the force of the other acolytes blow ran through him.

Talaa stirred by the stairs, posed to jump in should he look like he couldn't hold his own. She was pacing back and forth, every bit a caged and furious animal. Her anger reached for him, adding to his own. He pushed back and knocked the acolyte back a few paces. The other three were up and creeping closer, each desperate for the killing blow. They wanted what was his and he would be damned before he left any of them have it.

The tiredness in him faded, forced down by determination. He slammed his hands into the ground, using it to channel like he used his hands and creating a shockwave. His attackers were thrown to the floor, caught by surprise as the ground heaved beneath their feet. He was up and on one of the prone forms before any of them had recovered, bringing his weapon down with all the strength he had. The next two fell easily, still dazed after being thrown off their feet. The last was up and staring at him, fear and panic warring on his face.

"You can keep your spot." The acolyte was backing away towards the stairs. "I don't want to die, I just want off this rock."

"Ok." Talaa shoved her training saber through the acolytes chest, lips twisted into a mocking smile. The man slumped forward and the weapon slid out with a wet noise. She held it up to her face thoughtfully then flicked her wrist, splattering blood on dusty stone. "Hn. I’ve cracked it."

He tossed a glare in her direction but she just shrugged, not looking the least bit contrite. Not that she would, Talaa didn't know the definition of the word. He stepped over the fallen men and returned to the hermit, who was staring at him, eyes dark and impossible to read.

"I suppose it will do." The old man said finally. "Listen acolyte, and remember these words. Peace is a lie, there is only passion. Through passion, I gain strength. Through strength, I gain power. Through power, I gain victory. Through victory, my chains are broken. The Force shall free me."

Alaian shivered.

\-------------

Talaa looked down at the training blade that she'd 'borrowed' from one of the dead acolytes in Spindrall's lair, all too happy to be rid of it and pick up something a little more...substantial. She glanced back to look at her brother who, without picking up his head, raised a hand to indicate that he was at the very least still breathing.

Alaian had finished talking to the weird old man then followed behind her slowly, until they got to the armory. He'd sat at the entrance, leaning against the wall and just...deflating. She'd hovered over him for a few minutes, worried in a way that she only felt for her twin. She could feel how tired he was and knew he was conscious by sheer force of will alone. They'd been at this for a few hours and already they'd both pushed themselves harder than they'd ever needed to before. She hid it better, but she wondered if that was because she used her abilities less...externally than Ian opted to. He was not just tired but empty, the power coming from him lower than she’d ever felt it.

"Go get your fucking sword." Alaian grunted. "The sooner you're done the sooner you can carry me out of here."

She'd smirked then bound into the room, eying the powered down droids suspiciously. They didn't stir as she moved past them, but she found something about them made her very uneasy. They were here for no reason, that much she was sure of.

Still, as she came to a halt before a collection of gleaming swords she let her concern fall away. She put her hand out and let it drift over the assembled weapons before drawing one carefully. She gripped it with both hands, testing the weight of it, then nodded in satisfaction. It would do nicely.

Now, to bloody the thing.

A sound, like something powering up, was followed by an annoyed curse from Alaian. She turned in time to see that some of the droids had come to life and had set their sights on her twin. She growled, gripping the hilt of the weapon tightly. This seemed like it would be amazing practice.

She threw herself forward, trusting that she would land where she needed to be, and deftly removed the head from one of the droids closest to Alaian, who couldn't be bothered to stand up. Instead he just rolled his eyes at her and sighed, slumping against the wall. She heard more of the things powering up behind her and smiled.

She'd been incredibly tired a moment ago but now that the fight was on she could feel power flowing through her body, setting her skin aflame. She roared, a noise that would have made a living enemy consider its actions, then jumped and struck the ground with her fist, mimicking something she'd seen Alaian do earlier. The ground cracked beneath her fist then shattered from the force of her blow, sending her enemies crashing to the ground. It didn't take much more to dispatch her enemies; a few well timed strikes and the robots fell to pieces before her.

When she was done she stood over her twin, smiling widely. Blood dripped down her arm in thin rivers and her knuckles looked utterly ruined, but there was no pain, only power, and the red film of rage over her eyes.

He smiled back then thrust up his hand. She grabbed it, shivering as a chill began to creep its way into her from where their hands clasped. She breathed out, become calmer with every moment, and hauled him to his feet.

"Lets get out of here."

"But I have yet to bloody my blade."

He sneered at her. "I'll let you kill everything we see on the way out then."

\------------

Talaa separated from her twin once the academy was in sight. They agreed to meet up in the morning, for the next set of trials, and then he wandered away from her. She made her way to where Tremel had indicated he would be, staring in awe as she made her way through the academy. It was sight to behold; all dark stone, banners four times her size, and statues that seemed to crackle with power. Other Acolytes and overseers milled about, a few nodding acknowledgment as she passed. She was among peers now, and she vowed to herself that she would make sure that all of these people were beneath not just her but also Alaian soon enough. For now they looked at her as one of their own but would still look down their noses at him and that was unacceptable.

She turned down a hallway, noting two men of about her age standing a few meters ahead. The larger men nudged his friend and nodded in her direction. She frowned, instantly on edge. She could trust no one, except for her brother, and as tired as she was she would happily cut down anyone who threatened her. She would not, in respect of the rules, be making the first move.

She'd have to learn to curb her temper, for now.

That thought in mind she descended the stairs, not surprised when the slightly man called out to her.

"Hey there, acolyte, let me get a look at you."

She smiled. "Most men at least tell me their names before making such requests."

Much to her delight he actually went pink all the way up to the tips of his ears before forging on as if she hadn't spoken. "So you're Tremel's secret weapon then? Impressive to be sure, but I'm afraid the old man has waited too long to make his move. I'm Vemrin and unlike you I've fought and bleed for everything I have. I demand respect."

Talaa arched an eyebrow and her fingers itched for her new blade. Perhaps it wasn't bloody enough. "Are you saying I haven't fought to get here?"

"Please, everyone knows what Tremel is doing." Vemrin scoffed. "Perhaps if he had brought you in a year ago, when I'd first arrived, you might have had a chance, but now it's too little too late."

Talaa hummed softly and allowed her mind to slide to more amusing thoughts. Vemrin was far more boring than she had hope. He had a pale throat and a weak neck. She would be able to snap it with ease, or perhaps slit it and bring a little color.

"This is stupid Vemrin!" The large oafish man at his side declared. "Let's just kill her and hide the body!"

Talaa perked up. This one was far more interesting. Vemrin however waved his hand dismissively, disappointing Talaa even further. He was shaping up to be extremely worthless.

"We aren't on Balmorra anymore, Dolgis. There are rules. Traditions. We'll leave the shortcuts to Overseer Tremel and his last pathetic hope here."

Talaa smiled pleasantly. "I'm going to crush you, take what's yours, and then kill you. And your friend, I suppose, if he wants."

Vemrin rolled his eyes, seemingly unimpressed. Talaa pouted; she’d thought that was rather intimidating actually. "You have no idea the enemy you're making. Coming Dolgis?"

"In a moment Vemrin." The large man was glaring down at her, clearly lacking his friends restraint. Talaa bounced on the balls of her feet, allowing herself to become hopeful. Vemrin nodded and strode away, bumping against Talaa as he went. Once they were alone Dolgis strode forward, invading her personal space. Her heart began to beat faster.

"Acolytes aren't allowed to murder each other here, but it's only murder if there are witnesses." She agreed, actually. "No more warnings and no more threats. Vemrin is Alpha here and if you want to survive you'll stay out of his way."

Talaa leaned in, so close that someone might have mistaken what was going for a romantic moment. His breath hit her lips and she couldn't help but note the sour smell. "So. We won't be fighting right now then?"

He shoved her back into the wall but she caught the nervous look in his eyes. He walked away and she followed him with her eyes until he rounded the corner. So much for that.

Vemrin. How oddly close to vermin.

She finished her trek to the Overseer's office, casting her eyes on the girl he was talking with. She was a tiny thing with dark skin and dark eyes, with a slight resemblance to Tremel. A new player perhaps?

Tremel held up a hand to silence the girl when Talaa entered. "Ah, you've returned. You seem to be in one piece. Tell me, how do you like your new blade?"

Talaa removed the blade from it's place on her back and smiled slightly. "I hope it's thirsty. I will be drowning it in the blood of my enemies."

"What are you doing father!" The girl demanded, glaring at Talaa with surprising heat. The scars over her eye, three long lines that looked to be made by claws, seemed to raise up in response to her anger. "I've only just gotten my warblade and I've been here six months."

Tremel frowned slightly. "I have my reasons Eskella and you will not breathe a word of this to anyone, is that clear?"

"Yes, yes father." Eskella said, voice sullen. "I will keep my silence about your new charge, but I won't be around when it blows up in both of your faces." She cut her eyes over at Talaa one last time then stormed from the room, clearly still very upset.

"Don't mind her, she's just upset I'm keeping secrets. She growls but she is loyal." Tremel scrubbed a hand over his face and she wondered who exactly he was trying to convince: her or him. "Now, I thought I heard Vemrin's voice. Has he made his move so soon?"

Talaa shrugged. "I was unimpressed."

"Do not underestimate him. He is mixed blood, a sign of how relaxed admission has become in the search for sheer numbers, but he is smart. While you yourself are of...unfortunate birth, you are at least Sith. People like Vemrin are an invisible rot that eat away at the power of the Empire."

Talaa nodded slowly to show her understanding. "So you're an elitist snob."

Tremel's lips twitched up into a smile. "You say that as if it is a bad thing when really it's just the Sith way. The strongest survive and the weak are culled." He clasped his hands behind his back and began to pace the room. "Unfortunately Vemrin had caught the eye of Darth Baras, one of the most influential Sith Lords. He's being groomed to be Baras' new apprentice and with that kind of power at his fingertips he could change the Sith for the worse. This is why I must act now, and why you will move on to your second trial tonight."

She nodded again. She wanted to rest but she also understood that a Sith must be prepared to continue on in even the worse of circumstances and power through fatigue and mortal wounds in the name of their cause.

"There are three prisoners upstairs and you will be deciding how they will be sentenced. Listen to each story carefully because your decisions will be scrutinized. Let your passions guide you."

"Of course."

"When you are done you will report to Overseer Ragate. She is...an interesting woman, but old and powerful. You would be wise to listen to whatever she predicts for you."

\---------

“One more chirp from you little bird and you’ll regret it.”

“Chirp! Chirp! Chirp!” The human man acting as the jailer smiled as he held up his hand and activated what Talaa knew was the control to the shock collar. She frowned, trying not to shiver as the memory of the pain those things could bring came to her.

“Ow! Jerk. If you don’t like that just say so! I can do other animals too.” A twi’lek female with pale blue skin shouted as she was released from the grip of the electricity in her collar, but managed to keep her tone light and mocking. “Dire-cat. Frog Dog. Kowakian monkey-lizard, you name it.”   

The human man outside of her cage leered but straightened up when he realized Talaa was watching the exchange. “You. I’m Jailer Knash. I run these cells and slave pits; you’re the one Tremel sent for the test, right? He thinks highly of you.”

“As he should.” Talaa said tonelessly, careful to not betray how this man made her skin crawl.

Talaa was familiar with his sort; tiny weak men who latched on to any control they could exert over the even weaker, subjegating when they could, grasping at whatever scraps they could find, and raining cruelty wherever possible. Those were the sort of men who’d come around, looking for a special force sensitive whore to own, the sort of men she’d been learning to pleasure before being sent to become Sith.

There had been people like that on the planet before this; people of higher birth or from money who were generally weak in the force but able to use their standing and funds to force others to bend. Alaian had, much to Talaa’s chagrin, often taken up with those types, using them to secure them better tents, better food, more supplies...she’d hated it. She’d spent nights sitting up waiting for him to come back to her and frowning over bruises and bite mark but he wouldn’t let her share his burden.

Knash explained the proceedings to her quickly. Three prisoners brought for her judgement. She would either execute them or engage in trial by combat (which was as good as an execution, honestly) after hearing their stories. She nodded to indicate she understood then walked to the leftmost cage, holding a woman who was sporting a few bruises on her defiant face.

“You freaks aren’t getting anything new out of me. Just do whatever you’re gonna do!”

Talaa smiled faintly. She had spirit. “You will either speak to me or you’ll speak to our inquisitors and believe me I have a much sunnier disposition. Hell, I kind of like you.”

“Get lost.” The human woman didn’t look impressed. “I’ve been through this routine. I know all your inquisitors by name.”

“As I was saying,” Knash broke in. “She was sent to kill an Imperial spy in the Yavin system. Throughout her torture she had maintained that she was hired anonymously.”

The woman crossed her arms over her chest, sniffing. “Get it through your damn head. I had no idea he was Imperial and I don’t know who hired me.”

Talaa considered that, trying to detect a lie in the woman’s words or movements. She wished Alaian was with her, he could taste a lie from a non-force user with ease. “So you’re saying you aren’t a republic assassin.”

The woman scoffed. “I’m not political. If the credits are there I don’t care.”

“The point is she doesn’t deny the charges. You must choose, execution or trial by combat.”

“Trial by combat. She deserves to die on her feet.”

The woman stared at her for a long moment, eyes glittering before she nodded once. “Give me the damn sword.”

It was a fast match, Talaa easily overpower the already weakened woman and driving her sword into her stomach and then dragging it upwards. Blood ran out over her blade and hands, dripping to the floor, as she stared into the woman’s dimming eyes, watching the fire there fade away. It tugged at her, a strange twisting in the pit of her stomach.

“I’m surprised. She faced her death well.”

She pushed the woman off of her blade, allowing the body to collapse onto the floor into a heap then allowed herself a small smile. “Yes she did. Let’s hope the other two do as well.”

The next, a sith who had fallen into disgrace after causing a thousand imperial deaths, begged to die on his feet and Talaa granted it. He fought hard, getting in some blows that Talaa could feel rattle her teeth and a few slashes that drew blood, but in the end he too fell before her. Even as she struck the last blow he looked...grateful.

She nodded to herself. Giving him a chance to fight had been the right thing to do. His failure was disgrace enough without dying like an animal in a cage.

The third gave her pause. He claimed to be innocent, framed, and had maintained that through the sort of torture most people couldn’t begin to get through unbroken. Even Knash conceded that he may very well have been innocent. The ‘right’ thing to do would have been to grant mercy but...there was no room for mercy, not if she wanted to rise to the top.

Talaa bit her lower lip then looked down at her blood and tissue stained blade. “Execution.”

\---------

Talaa stood in front of the old woman, Alaian at her side. Ragate looked first at her then at her twin, before offering a slow dark smile. "You've been sent for the ritual of blood and bone. Someone must think highly of the two of you indeed. I see much strength and potential, but we will see if you are worthy."

She made a gesture for them to follow then started down a corridor. It wasn't a long one and they come to their destination, a large stone door just barely cracked open, quickly. "Through here you will find ritual chamber. You will travel to the back and retrieve a skull from the bone pile."

Alaian lifted his chin, eyes gleaming. "That's the bone, but where is the blood?"

"Clever cruel child." Ragate laughed, apparently delighted by the question. "One of you will retrieve the skull and the other will submerge it in the blood pool. From there we shall see how you fare."


	3. Don't Try to Scream Out

"Ffon huh?" Talaa repeated the name, a small smile playing on her lips. "Would you like me to crush his skull for you?"

Alaian had been recounting his experience with his overseer, which had resulted in the death of Acolyte Kory and the introduction of Ffon to the group. He smiled down at his sister. "No need. Besides, aren't your hands full enough with Vermin?"

"Vemrin." Talaa corrected lightly. "And no. I told you, it was sadly boring."

Talaa considered anything that didn't end in bloodshed boring, so he decided to keep his silence. Instead he inclined his head towards a set of stone stairs leading up to an altar covered in, unsurprisingly, skulls. They hadn't been in the chamber long and had already passed what he assumed was the pool of blood. They'd had to put down a few angry beasts on their way through, but nothing he would consider all that challenging.

Then again his last trial had also lacked challenge. Tormenting someone to extract information wasn't hard, though he supposed there was a kind of art to knowing when to press forward, when to draw back, and when to throw them off with requests to sing. He was sure he didn't have all of the nuances of being an Inquisitor down yet, but that didn't change that shocking one acolyte already on the cusp of breaking wasn't exactly complicated.

Talaa bound up the stairs and grabbed a skull. She brought it up to her face and examined it close, turning it over in her hands as she did.

"Looks human."

"Fascinating."

She didn't seem to notice the condescending tone of his voice, or more likely didn't want to give him the satisfaction of appearing to care. She met him at the bottom of the stairs and pressed the skull into his hands, smiling at his grimace. He had no problem with blood and viscera, but something about dealing with those dead before he arrived made him a touch squeamish.

Perhaps it was the stories their father had told them of his brief time at the academy. Not as an acolyte of course, not in the man's wildest dreams would he have been worthy, but as a cleaner. When the first waves of low breeds, slaves, and half-bloods had streamed into the academy they'd died in droves and members of the slave caste had been brought in to dispose of the bodies; burning them, dismembering them, feeding them to the animals, or just dragging them far into the desert to be picked apart by scavengers...whatever it took to be rid of the failures. Their father had claimed that sometimes he'd come across an acolyte who wasn't all the way dead and that, while transporting them to be burned or otherwise disposed of, he could often feel their life force leaving their body.

Even now the thought made Alaian nervous. Who was to say how many restless spirits roamed a place like this, disembodied and impotent as they watched the living continue on as if they'd never existed. Full of rage but as pitiful in death as they'd been in life.

To be so weak...

He followed Talaa back to the blood pool, his sister's gleeful whooping as she slaughtered the rest of the chamber's beasts falling on deaf ears. Talaa stopped on the edge of the pool, placing her weapon on her back as she did, and looked at him expectantly.

Alaian waded into the pool, which wasn't as deep as he originally thought. Blood lapped at his calves, ice cold, thick and oddly gritty, but he bent down and submerged the skull and his arms as deep as he could. For a moment nothing happened and Talaa made an impatient noise next to him.

"That's it? What kind of-"

The chamber shook, silencing his sister. Alaian frowned, feeling the blood around him begin to churn. The skull in his hands was abruptly torn from his hands by an immense suction and he reared back, thinking that he should probably get out before he joined it. The blood began to swirl and come together in the center of the pool and, before their eyes, took on a form. Talaa gripped his shoulder and yanked him back. He fell, rather gracelessly, onto his ass.

Her weapon was in hand and her teeth were bared. The thing in the center roared and gnashed it's mouth, a gaping round hole full of razor sharp teeth.

It was a 'Slug, at least three times larger than the ones they'd encountered in the tomb. It's whole body dripped with blood, adding to the frightful appearance.

Talaa swore then, visibly steeling herself, charged in. She brought her sword down fast and with enough force that a wet squelch rang out. She had pierced skin and the beast reared back in pain, screaming it's rage before striking. It hit her hard and Alaian swore he heard the cracking of bone. Worse than that it sent her flying back into the pool; she vanished under the rippling blood.

He held his breath, expecting her to emerge immediately, after all the pool was shallow, but the surface went still and the presence she usually held in his mind went silent. It hurt, like someone stabbing something into his skull, but he shook his head to clear it.

He wanted to reach out for Talaa and drag her from wherever the beast had thrown her, but he knew it would have to wait. He forced the panic that was threatening to break through and drown him to power him, drawing on the emotion to once again force the fatigue from his limbs. His body felt cold suddenly and the chamber unbearably hot.

The beast shrieked again and began to move towards him. It was big and slow, probably in part to the large leaking wound in it's side, and Alaian knew how to make it suffer.

Alaian pushed up to his feet, but stayed crouched, and eyed the monster. It lunged and he rolled, claws cleaving the air where he'd just been. He struck out, slamming his hand into the wound as deep as he could, stopping only once he was elbow deep in wet stinging flesh. The thing roared and thrashed, trying to dislodge him.

Alaian wrapped his hand around something vaguely sphere shaped, not sure what he'd managed to locate and not caring. He pushed out, sending power flowing directly into the beast. It jerked violently even as it began to crumple. A claw grazed his ribs but he held tight, squeezing. Purple electricity arced through the beast and then back to Alaian, hitting his skin and then seeping back in.

When the thing had stopped twitching he pulled his arm free, frowning at the angry white blisters beginning to form and already peeling skin. He didn't dwell on the state of his arm, though he was certain it was going to be painful soon, instead hurrying back to the pool and dropping to his knees at the edge. He thrust his arm in, suppressing a groan of pleasure as the cool blood flowed over his skin. He should have hit bottom without issue but instead he was grasping around and feeling nothing. He leaned further in, blood now seeping over his shoulder, seeking Talaa.

Something warm brushed his fingertips and he grasped it. For a moment nothing and then it held back, long fingers curling around his palm. He pulled and slowly, painfully slow, he pulled his sister to the surface. When her head broke through she gasped hugely, mouth a dark hole amongst the red clinging to her skin. She slumped down partially on top of him, breathing hard. Then she giggled and looked up at him, a smile he could only call impish firmly in place.

"Look what I found." The hand he wasn't holding thrust itself up in the air, skull gripped tightly. He shoved her away, disgusted. She laughed again then nodded at the dead beast. "Looks like you didn't need me anyway."

He shook his head. “I doubt I would have managed if you hadn’t wounded it first.”

She scoffed and tossed her hair back, flicking blood onto his face. “Don’t let others hearing you say such things. Imagine, a future Sith Lord admitting to almost being felled by a stupid beast.”

He quirked an eyebrow as, after all, she’d been knocked completely out of the fight but..in the end she was correct. They were stronger together, that was why she was here now trying to carry out her overseer’s machinations, but they could never let anyone else know that and would need to learn to be just as strong as everyone else apart.

They collected themselves and shuffled out of the chamber. They were both soaked, Talaa from head to toe and him almost there as well, and stained red with the blood of the pool. Overseer Ragate was waiting where they'd left her and was smiling wickedly when Talaa shoved the skull in her direction.

"I heard the screams of shyracks, the rippling of the blood pool, and the moans of the blood fiend as it died in pain." She seemed much younger now, the years wiped away by her joy in the death they had wrought. "This skull is now painted by your actions, your rage, and is very much a part of both of you. Your futures are linked, for now, and so I can catch a glimpse, if you so desire."

Talaa shrugged and Alaian nodded his approval. The woman closed her eyes for a moment then opened them again, staring at his sister solemnly. "The key to your success is a small and sorry creature, but you can shape it in your image, if you so desire. Your strength will grow, become that of legend, but until you learn to steel your heart you will fail. And you, boy, beware the shadow killer. It can be bound, but never controlled. You have the second sight, a rare gift indeed, but if you let it determine who is of worth you will lose not just your life, but your body."

His sister frowned, looking as if she was about to say something mocking but he elbowed her. She didn’t put much stock in those who used to force to read the future and give vague warnings and suggestions. What good was seeing a murky future if meanings could only be deciphered after the fact and could, perhaps, be applied to any situation. Beyond that she prefered things that a Sith could hold and use, not things that took hold and used a Sith as visions were said to do.

Alaian however thought wisdom should be sought from all possible sources. Why dismiss one aspect because it was harder to understand or because the method was distasteful? He should be so lucky as to have the Force choose to speak through him, even if it was in riddles.

Besides, she knew of his second sight so perhaps there was merit in her words.

"Now, listen to me closely acolytes. There are many kinds of Sith, and many ways to access and gain power. None are wrong so long as they work, but there will come a time when you will choose an area in which to focus your strengths." The Overseer set the skull aside then rubbed her hands over the sides of her robe, leaving smears of blood on the fabric."I will explain these areas to you so you may make informed choices. It would be foolish to let such potential go to waste."

"What if I don't want to choose one area?" Talaa asked, eyes narrowed. "It sounds limiting, and I will not be limited in my quest for power."

"You must first learn to excel in one before taking on all things, child. You aren't any good to the Sith if you are mediocre at all things instead of focused in one." Talaa looked like she wanted to argue but another sharp look from Alaian moved her to silence. He wanted to hear what the old woman had to say; his sister could argue over whatever points she wanted later. Ragate started, voice taking on a strange melodic rhythm.

Sith Warriors, she said, were the front line of the Sith Empire and masters of the battlefield. They channel the force into themselves, bolstering their strength while purging weakness. The more fury they have, the more unstoppable they become. They were berserkers, feeding on fear, anger and hatred to crush their foes.

The Warrior splits into two basic specializations as far as training went, though the line was less clearly defined when it come to battle. Juggernauts, who stood in the middle of battle and absorbed damage for their allies. They used the force to deny pain and harden their bodies, shrugging off attacks that would shatter lesser beings and continuing the fight with even mortal wounds, persisting through hatred alone. With true mastery of the force they could learn to use terror and despair to paralyze their enemies or turn their abilities to taking on the damage their allies would suffer.

The other side was the Marauder, who dealt not in the brute strength and crushing blows of their fellows, but in blinding speed, accuracy, and brutal efficiency. They used the force to know their enemies every weakness before the first blow ever landed and to see the best place to land their blows to destroy their enemy with ruthless speed.

Here she looked at Alaian pointedly and began to speak on Inquisitors, lips curving up. They were masters not in physical combat, but in outwardly wielding the force. They could use if offensively, conjuring impressive lightning displays or storms of force power onto their foes or instead draining the life from others to heal themselves and those around them.

Assassins operated in the shadows. They shied away from the open battles that Warriors excelled in, using speed and stealth to infiltrate and destroy. They could leave their enemies dead before anyone even knew they were there and retreat to the shadows before the body hit the ground. This wasn't to imply they were physically weak or unable to participate in face-to-face battle; with an arsenal of force tricks and the ability to weaken enemies with the force they were as formidable as a warrior.

This left only the Sorcerer, who trained to express the raw power of the force through arcane means, delving into rituals and 'spells' to supplement the more modern force techniques. They brought devastation wherever they went, but could also use the power to heal and protect. Only the most dedicated could hope to master the art of Sith Sorcery, as it took years of study and research to scratch the surface of the power one could find there.

With that Overseer stopped, looking at the both with shrewd eyes. "I have given you much to think on, I'm sure. It is late and your trials will begin early, so you should rest and regain your strength now."

They walked away, towards the barrack rooms, silence stretching between them. Talaa’s eyes were gleaming and a small smile was quirking her lips; she probably had images of great battles dancing in her head. He shook his head with soft huff and was rewarded with a brush of fingers on the back of his hand.

He could feel conviction and a sense of sureness in her. Something in Ragate’s words had resonated in her, was burrowing deep and taking hold and through her eyes he could see shadow images of a woman, tall and strong, streaked with blood and gore, standing before a throne of bones with two lightsabers gripped in her hands.

Her imagination was vivid, he’d give her that, but more than that was the fact that it was more than just a thought. It was the truth to Talaa. It would be her fate and she would accept no other outcome.

The split for the night, Talaa heading to the sections designated for females while he went to find a bed amongst the other men. He looked at them, really looked, and considered the mass of colors and shapes in their auras, paying special attention to those he couldn't read.

Could what he saw not be trusted? What had that old woman meant? 


End file.
